


Depressed

by uzumagay



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, GW2016, GW2016day2, Gallavich Week 2016, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uzumagay/pseuds/uzumagay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t get like this. He doesn’t bitch out and shake like this, so hard he could barely hold onto a fucking can of beer. He fucking hates this. He hates seeing Ian like this.</p>
<p>(Or, Mickey dealing with Ian's depressive phases.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depressed

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time participating in Gallavich week! i hope this comes up to par to the other fics written, and if you like you should check out my other stuff!  
> anyway, this is set in S4, when Ian's in his depressive state. 
> 
> hope you like!

Mickey’s hands are shaking. 

He doesn’t get like this. He doesn’t bitch out and shake like this, so hard he could barely hold onto a fucking can of beer. He fucking hates this. He hates seeing Ian like this. 

Mickey knows what the fuck depression is. Not in doctor sense, but he knows. Not being depressed in this shitty ass town is a fucking miracle, but Mickey was not one of those miracles. 

Fiona trying to tell him shit like he didn’t get depression? Sure, he didn’t get what was happening with Ian, but he got what depression is, fuck her. 

She doesn’t know (honestly, no one knows, not even Ian) about him. They don’t know how he’s sat drunk with a gun to his temple, thinking it through, because who the fuck would care? No one. No one would be upset if he died, and the feeling of the barrel against his skin was scary in a way that made his breath catch and heartbeat pick up. It was almost exciting. 

But he can’t watch Ian go through this. He hates seeing Ian lying on the bed, fucking comatose like Mickey always wanted to be when he got like that. Last night, he found Ian looking at one of his guns he didn’t have Iggy take out, an the way his stomach dropped made him throw up after he got Ian back in bed. 

He took another sip of his beer, eyeing the bag of Valium on the counter Iggy brought over for him a few hours ago. He stared at it, wanting to take a few and just go to bed, but he didn’t want to leave Ian alone. Taking a few of them knocks Mickey the fuck out, so if Ian or anyone tried to wake him, it’d take a while. He sighed, downing the rest of the beer and going to the bedroom. 

He peeked in, swallowing hard. It wasn’t too late, only around eight, so he thought maybe Ian was still awake. 

“Hey,” he said softly, coming in and shutting the door behind him, and wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He didn’t expect an answer, but he didn’t really expect him to. He just pushed off his jeans and pulled off his shirt, still hovering by the bed. 

“I’m gonna lay with you, alright?” he asked, remembering that Fiona said to tell him what he was doing so he wasn’t surprised. He swallowed again, hands still shaking as he went to the other side of the bed, seeing Ian’s eyes were open. 

“Hey,” he whispered again, reaching down to touch his hair, hoping to everything there fucking was that Ian didn’t yell at him again, because he couldn’t fucking do that again. 

Ian’s eyes just shut softly at the touch. There was enough room on the bed for Mickey to get lay in front of Ian, and he bit on his lip as he looked at it. 

“Can I lay here?” he asked, knowing he’d get a negative answer if Ian wanted to give one. When no response was given, he got into the bed, sighing shakily.

He’d missed this. Ian was so warm, and he wanted Ian to come close and cuddle up like he always tried to do before, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen, and tears welled up into his eyes. 

He wiped his eyes, resting his head on the pillow and breathing shakily as he looked at Ian. Ian Gallagher, this annoying fuck that Mickey loved so goddamn much, the person he knew would care if he shot himself in the head and blew his brains out. He just wants Ian to smile again, like they used to, or laugh again just one more fucking time. 

Ever since he was a little kid, he’s had no idea what the fuck love was. He knew it wasn’t his dad beating the shit out of his mother or smacking the kids around. And he didn’t believe that bullshit on tv like Mandy did, because none of that was real. 

This was though. This feeling in his chest as he looked at Ian and Ian looked back, this ache in his heart when Ian was sad. He knew that wanting a person happy like this, so hard, with your entire fucking being, that’s what love was. 

And Mickey has no problem with being in love as long as it’s with Ian. 

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on tumblr at uzumagay.tumblr.com


End file.
